W. H. Hudson (1841-1922)

W.H. Hudson: Green Mansions (1904) Memorable Passages from the Book By Peter Y. Chou WisdomPortal.com

Green Mansions (1904) Dover Edition, 1989

Memorable Passages from W.H. Hudson's Green Mansions:

p. 2: When in 1887, I arrived in Georgetown [Guyana] to take up an appointment in a public office, I found Mr. Abel an old resident there, a man of means & a favourite in society. Yet he was an alien, a Venezuelan, one of that turbulent people on our border whom colonists have always looked on as their natural enemies. The story told to me was that about twelve years before that time he had arrived at Georgetown from some remote district in the interior; that he had journeyed alone on foot across half the continent to the coast, and had first appeared among them, a young stranger, penniless, in rags, waed almost to a skeleton by fever and misery of all kinds, his face blackened by long exposure to sun and wind. pp. 3-4: The things which excited other men— politics, sport, and the price of crystals— were outside of his thoughts;... it was a relief to turn to Mr. Abel and get hime to discourse of his world— the world of nature and of the spirit. p. 5: Then, in my haste, I retorted that to me the friendship between us did not seem so perfect and complete as it did to him. One condition of friendship is that the partners in it should be known to each other. He had had my whole ife and mind open to him, to read it as in a book. His life was a closed and clasped volume to me. p. 7: I must think only of how I am to tell you my story. I will begin at a time when I was 23. p. 9: the President [of Venezuela] was attacked in the street and wounded. But the attackers were seized, and some of them shot on the following day... My friend, an officer in the army, was a leader in the conspiracy; and as I was the only son of a man who had been greatly hated by the Minister of War, it became necessary for us both to fly for our lives. p. 10: My companion took his departure towards the coast, while I travelled in the interior to trade with the savages in the western part of Guayana, and the Amazonian territory bordering on Colombia and Brazil, and to return to Angostura in about six months' time. silence. p. 18-19: The last village Curicay stood, among low scattered trees— a large building in which all the people passed most of their time time when not hunting. The head, or chief, Runi by name, was about 50 years old, a taciturn, finely formed, and somewhat dignified savage. p. 20: When the rain ceased, I went to the neighbouring stream, where I sat on a stone and casting off my sandals, laved my bruised feet in the cool running water. pp. 20-21: Flocks of birds, a kind of troupial, were flying past me overhead, flock succeeding flock, on their way to their resting-place, uttering as they flew a clear, bell-like chirp; and there was something ethereal too in those drops of melodius sound, which fell into my heart like raindrops falling into a pool to mix their fresh heavenly water with the water of earth... This unexpected peace which I had found now seemed to me of infinitely greater value than that yellow metal [gold] I had missed finding, with all its possibilities. My wish now was to rest for a season at this spot, so remote and lovely and peaceful, where I had experienced such unusual feelings, and such a blessed disillusionment. pp. 33: Lying on my back and gazing up, I felt reluctant to rise and renew my ramble. For what a roof was that above my head! Roof I call it, just as the posts in their poverty sometimes describe the infinite ethereal sky by that word; but it was no more roof-ike and hindering to the soaring spirit than the higher clouds that float in changing forms and tints, and like the foliage chasten the intolerable noonday beams. p. 34: Thus in idleness, with such thoughts for company, I spent my time glad that no human being, savage or civilised was with me. It was better to be alone to listen to the monkeys that chattered without offending; to watch them occupied with the unserious business of their lives. With that luxuriant tropical nature, its green clouds and illusive aerial spaces, full of mystery, they harmonised well in language, appearance, and motions;— mountebank angels, living their fantastic lives far above earth in a half-way heaven of their own. p. 36: In this place I witnessed a new thing, and had a strange experience. Sitting on the ground in the shade of a large tree, I began to hear a confused noise as of a coming tempest of wind mixed with shrill calls and cries. Nearer and nearer it came, and a last a multitude of birds of many kinds, but mostly small, appeared in sight swarming through the trees, some running on the trunks and larger branches, others flitting through the foliage, and many keeping on the wing, now hovering and now darting this way or that. p. 38: The blood rushed to my heart as I listened: my nerves tingled with a strange new delight, the rapture produced by such music heightened by a sense of mystery. Before many moments I heard it again, not rapid now, but a soft warbling, lower than at first, infinitely sweet and tender, sinking to lisping sounds that soon ceased to be audible; the whole having lasted as long as t would take me to repeat a sentence of a dozen words. This seemed the singer's farewell to me, for I waited and listened in vain to hear it repeated; and after getting back to the starting-point I sat for upwards of an hour, still hoping to hear it once more! p. 48: Imaginary terrors began to assail me. Ancient fables of men allured by beautiful forms and melodious voices to destruction all at once acquired a fearful significance. I recalled some of the Indian beliefs, especially that of the misshapen, man-devouring monster who is said to beguile his victims into the dark forest by mimicking the human voice— the voice sometimes of a woman in distress— or by singing some strange and beautiful melody. p. 52: The sun was sinking behind the forest, its broad red disc still showing through the topmost leaves, and the higher part of the foliage was of a luminous green, like green flame, throwing off flakes of quivering , fiery light, but lower down the trees were in profound shadow. pp. 65-66: It was a human being— a girl form, reclining on the moss among the ferns and herbage, near the roots of a small tree. One arm was doubled behind her neck for her head to rest upon, while the other arm was held extended before her, the hand raised towards a small brown bird perched on a pendulous twig just beyond its reach. She appeared to be playing with the bird, possibly amusing herself by trying to entice it on to her hand... she was small, not above four feet six or seven inches in height, in figure slim, with delicate shaped little hands and feet. Her feet were bare, and her only garment was a slight chemise-shaped dress reaching below her knees, of a whitish-grey colour, with a faint lustre as of a silky material. Her hair was very wonderful; it was loose and abundant, and seemed wavy or curly, falling in a coud on her shoulders and arms. p. 67: For I was now convinced that in this wild solitary girl I had at length discovered the mysterious warbler that so often followed me in the wood. At length, seeing that it was growing late, I took a drink from the stream and slowly and reluctantly made my way out of the forest, and went home. p. 78: Wonder-struck at the sight of her strange beauty and passion, I forgot the advancing snake until she came to a stop at about five yards from me; then to my horror I saw that it was beside her naked feet... It was plain to see that she had no fear of it, that she was one of those exceptional persons to be found, it is said, in all countries, who possess some magnetic quality which has a soothing effect on even the most venomous annd irritable reptiles. p. 80: Think, then, less of the picture as I have to paint it in words than of the feeling its original inspired in me, when looking closely for the first time on that rare loveliness, trembling with delight I mentally cried: "Oh, why has Nature, maker of so many types and of innumerable individuals of each, given to the world but one being like this?" pp. 85-86: "The snake has bitten me", I said. "What shall I do? Is there no leaf, no root you know that would save me from death? Help me! help me!" I cried in despair. p. 91: I had not been killed by the venomous tooth, nor the subsequent fearful fall, seemed like a miracle to me. And in that wild, solitary place, lying insensible, in that awful storm and darkness, I had been found by a fellow-creature— a saavage, doubtless, but a good Samaritan all the same— who had rescued me from death! p. 96: Rima brought Abel to her grandfather Nuflo's hut for healing from the snake bite. p. 107: But to keep her near me or always in sight was, I found, impossible: she would be free as the wind, free as the butterfly, going and coming at her wayward will, and losing herself from sight a dozen times every hour. To induce her to walk soberly at my side or sit down and enter into conversation with me seemed about as impracticable as to tame the fiery-hearted little hummingbird that flashes into sight, remains suspended motionless for a few seconds before your face, then, quick as lightningm vanishes again. pp. 120-121: Listen, Rima, you are like all beautiful things in the wood— flower, and bird, and butterfly, and green leaf, and frond, and little silky-haired monkey high up in the trees. When I look at you I see them all— all and more, a thousand times, for I see Rima herself. And when I listen to Rima's voice, talking in a language I cannot understand, I hear the wind whispering in the leaves, the gurgling running water, the bee among the flowers, the organ-bird singing far, far away in the shadows of the trees. I hear them all, and more, for I hear Rima. Do you understand me now? Is it I speaking to you— have I answered you— have I come to you?" p. 130: Why, I began to ask myself, was Rima so much to me? It was easy to answer that question: Because nothing so exquisite had ever been created. All the separate & fragmentary beauty & melody and graceful motion found scattered throughout nature were concentrated and harmoniously combined in her. How various, how luminous, how divine she was! A being for the mind to marvel at, to admire continually, find some new grace & charm every hour, every moment, to add to the old. There was, besides, the fascinating mystery surrounding her origin to arouse and keep my interest n her continually active... Because I loved her: loved her as I had never loved before, never could love any other being, with a passion which had caught something of her own brilliance and intensity, making a former passion look dim and commonplace in comparison— a feeling known to everyone, something old and worn out, a weariness even to think of. p. 134: Springing to the floor, I flung out of the house and went down to the stream. It was better there, for now the greatest heat of the day was over, and the westering sun began to look large, and red, and rayless through the afternoon haze. p. 136: O mystic bell-bird of the heavenly race of the swallow and dove, the quetzal, and the nightingale! When the brutish savage and the brutish white man that slay theee, one for food, the other for the benefit of science, shall have pased away, live still, live to tell thy message to the blameless spiritualized race that shall come after us to possess the earth, not for a thousand years, but for ever. p. 196: I envied them [birds] not their wings: at that moment earth did not seem fixed and solid beneath me, nor I boun by gravity to it. The faint, floating clouds, the blue infinite heaven itself, seemed not more ethereal and free than I, or the ground I walked on. p. 198: "The knowledge that comes from the blue is not like that— it is more important and miraculous. Is it not so, senor?" Nuflo ended, appealing to me. p. 199: "Thus, then, I decide," said I. "To each one of us, as to every kind of animal, even to small birds and insects, and to every kind of plant, there is given someting peculiar— a fragrance, a melody, a special instinct, an art, a knowledge, which no other has. And to Rima has been given this quickness of mind and power to divine distant things; it is hers, just as swiftness and grace and changeful, brilliant colour are the hummingbird's; therefore she need not that anyone dwelling in the blue should instruct her." p. 235: They said that only one Hata flower existed in the world; that it bloomd in one spot for the space of a moon; that on the disappearance of the moon in the sky the Hata disappeared from its place, only to reappear blooming in some other spot, sometimes in some distant forest. And they also said that whosoever discovered the Hata flower in the forest would overcome all his enemies and obtain all his desires, and finally outlive other men by many years. p. 238: They are lost, Rima— your people— but I am with you, and know what you feel, even if you ave no words to tell it. But what need of words? It shines in your eyes, it burns like a flame in your face; I can feel it in your hands. Do you not also see it in my face— all that I feel for you, the love that makes me happy? For this is love, Rima, the flower and the melody of life, the sweetest thing, the sweet miracle that makes our two souls one." [Hoxie N. Fairchild, "Rima's Mother", PMLA, Vol. 68 (1953), pp. 357-371] p. 270: "Then they set fire to it on all sides, laughing and shouting, 'Burn, burn, daughter of the Didi!' At length all the lower branches of the big tree were on fire, and the trunk was on fire, but above it was still green, and we could see nothing. But the flames went up higher and higher with a great noise; and at last from the top of the tree, out of the green leaves, came a great cry, like the cry of a bird, 'Abel! Abel!' and then looking we saw something fall; through leaves and smoke and flame it fell like a great white bird killed with an arrow and falling to the earth, and fell into the flames beneath. And it was the daughter of the Didi, and she was burnt to ashes like a moth in the flames of a fire, and no one has ever heard or seen her since." p. 276: "Did you know, beloved, at the last, in that intolerable heat, in that moment of supreme anguish, that he is unlistening, unhelpful as the stars, that you cried not to him? To me was your cry: but your poor, frail fellow-creature was not there to save, or, failing that, to cast himself into the flames and perish with you, hating God." p. 276: Whether I loved Him who was over all, as when I thanked Him on my knees for guiding me to where I had heard so sweet and mysterious a melody, or hated and defied Him as now, it all came from Him— love and hate, good and evil. p. 287: To be with Rima again— my lost Rima recovered— mine, mine at last! No longer the old vexing doubt now— "You are you and I am I— why is it?"— the question asked when our souls were near together, like two raindrops side by side, drawing irrestibly nearer, ever nearer: for now they had touched and were not two, but one inseparable drop, crystallised beyond change, not to be disintegrated by time, nor shattered by death's blow, nor resolved by any alchemy. pp. 289-290: One night a moth fluttered in and alighted on my hand as I sat by the fire, causing me to hold my breath as I gazed at it... And standing by the open door I turned and addressed it: "O night-wanderer of the pale, beautiful wings, go forth, and should you by chance meet her somewhere in the shadowy depths, revisiting her old haunts, by my messenger——" Thus much had I spoken, when the frail thing loosened its hold to fall without a flutter, straight and swift, into the white blaze beneath. I sprang forward with a shriek, and stood staring into the fire, my whole frame trembling with a sudden, terrible emotion. Even thus had Rima fallen— fallen from the great height— into the flames that instantly consumed her beautiful flesh and bright spirit! O cruel Nature! p. 297: And in that place I had sat for many a thousand years, drawn up and motionless, with stony fingers clasped round my legs, and forehead resting on my knees; and there would I sit, unmoving, immovable, for many a thousand years to come— I, no longer I, in a universe where she was not, and God was not. p. 310: [all] that share the forest with her, loved and worshipped Rima, and that mournful burden I carried, her ashes, was a talisman to save me. He has left me, the semi-human monster, uttering such wild, lamentable cries as he hurries away into the deeper, darker woods, that horror changes to grief, and I, too, lament Rima for the first time: a memory of all the mystic, unimaginable grace and loveliness and joy that had vanished smites on my heart with such sudden, intense pain that I cast myself prone on the earth and weep tears that are like drops of blood. p. 315: In that way I have walked; and, self-forgiven and self-absorbed, I know hat if she were to return once more and appear to me— even here where her ashes are— I know that her divine eyes would no longer refuse to look into mine, since the sorrow which seemed eternal and would have slain me to see would not now be in them. [The End]

| Top | Green Mansions Discussions | Too Loud a Solitude | Mary Shelley''s Frankenstein | J.A. Baker's The Peregrine |
| Birds Killed by Peregrine | Hans Peeters' "Discovering Raptors" | Werner Herzog's Of Walking In Ice | Stanford's Another Look |
| J.L. Carr's A Month in the Country | Falling Into Grace | End of Your World | Viktor Frankl | Enlightenment Changes Brain |
| Haikus 2018 | Haikus 2017 | Haikus 2016 | Haikus 2015 | Haikus 2014 | Haikus 2013 | Haikus 2012 | Haikus 2011 | Haikus 2010 |
| Poems 2018 | Poems 2017 | Poems 2016 | Poems 2015 | Poems 2014 | Poems 2013 | Poems 2012 | Poems 2011 | Poems 2010 |
| Poems Index | CPITS | Poetry & Power | Nature Walks | Interesting News | Enlightenment News | Books | A-Z Portals | Home |

© Peter Y. Chou, Wisdom Portal P.O. Box 390707, Mountain View, CA 94039 email: (10-31-2018)